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essays kaddish in two-part harmony

the doors

I live for the doors. I wait for them. It’s an exercise in great patience. Endurance even. First off, however, this is not a post about Jim Morrison. Though it could be. He walked through these doors as well. So. I wait for doors. Wait for them to open. I watch them start to shut. […]

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kaddish in two-part harmony podcasts

daily kaddish: Osama Bin Laden

Mira’s Kaddish for Osama Bin Laden is an example of why I’m so proud to be her collaborator. With her words echoing in my brain, and her “bismilleh” Kaddish text echoing in my headphones, I attempted to play a Kaddish for this whole sorry scene. I don’t think it’s coincidental that I was hitting clams and playing notes out of tune the whole way through.

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essays kaddish in two-part harmony

a kaddish for Osama bin Laden

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم The goal of building (or rebuilding) an Islamic State is something as yet under-appreciated in the West.  Do we in the West ask what kind of State is it?  Or do we just assume it’s the oppressive, misogynistic monolith that we have dubbed it?  Do we even ask ourselves if there […]

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essays kaddish in two-part harmony

the shikse makes more charoset—& mrs tzaddik doesn’t care

After years of making the weak, watery Ashkenaz muck that Mira so disdains, I ran across this recipe in the The New York Times Passover Cookbook, credited to Larry Bain and Catherine Pantsios as an adaptation of his gramma’s.

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essays kaddish in two-part harmony

the shikse makes charoset—and Elijah likes it

I had the chutzpah to challenge Mira to a charoset-off. Uff da.

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essays

the very best sephardi charoset ever, hashisha candy, and the religion of labor

I mean, it’s not really chauvinistic to admit when something is without question and beyond doubt just the very best, right? This is something that can be tested empirically.  Blind taste test, right? Well, actually not.  There’s the nostalgia factor.   People are attached to family traditions, especially with regard to foods, and they become […]

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essays kaddish in two-part harmony tzaddik stories

bondage, sephardi style

I have heard this bit every single Pesach of my life when my mother has been present.  And when she wasn’t, I’ve taken it upon myself to tell it myself (albeit a short short version).  All my stories are the short short version, in case you haven’t noticed.  Mrs Tzaddik is much better on detail. […]